


The Best of What We Are

by WritingMyOwnHappyEnding



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, At least not for long, But not very angsty angst, Canon Universe, Does this even have a plot, First Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, I guess it's fluff?, I still want good things for him, I swear it does eventually, M/M, Making Out, Oikawa is trash but he's OUR trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29802180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingMyOwnHappyEnding/pseuds/WritingMyOwnHappyEnding
Summary: “It gives me the creeps. You know that dumb thing parents always say about jumping off a bridge? It’s like...you could actually get everyone to do that.” - Iwaizumi Hajime, age 10.Oikawa Tooru is good with people. In fact, he can get people to give him almost anything he wants. His people skills are his most powerful tools, the most powerful weapons in his arsenal. There’s only one person those tools don’t work on - or do they?And if they do, is it a blessing or a curse?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 31
Kudos: 73





	1. i didn't even want to

Oikawa, age 4, wants to catch a cicada. He looks up at the tree; he can hear where the sound is coming from - that branch, right there. 

“Iwa-chan,” he says, “help me get it.”

Iwaizumi gives him a look. “How?”

“I’ll give you a boost!”

“No way. You go up.”

“But look! I’m taller, and you’re a better climber. Come on!”

And Iwaizumi goes. It ends exactly the way you would expect.

The scrape on Iwaizumi’s knee must have hurt, because Iwaizumi, stoic even then, sits down on the ground, blinking away tears. “I didn’t even want to!” he says accusingly.

Oikawa, scared into silence by the fall, quickly recovers both his voice and his confidence.

“Iwa-chan,” he says very seriously, bending down. “Do you need me to kiss it?”

“That’s dumb. Why would that help?”

“It’s not dumb! Everybody knows it helps.”

Very quietly, Iwaizumi says “Okay.”

Still very serious, Oikawa presses his lips next to the scrape and not on it. He looks back at Iwaizumi and asks, in genuine curiosity, “Is it better?”

Iwaizumi considers the question. “Yes,” he finally says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are short, and it takes a while for the plot to show up, so I’ll be posting really frequently.


	2. if you jumped off a bridge

When Iwaizumi is ten, he starts to feel too old for the playground. 

Or, more specifically, he starts to feel like he and Oikawa as a pair are too old for the playground.

“Let’s swing,” says Oikawa.

“They’re all taken,” says Iwaizumi, but he knows it doesn’t matter. Oikawa is already running over. Iwaizumi watches the familiar pattern of the exchange: Oikawa shouting cheerfully; swings slowing down; Oikawa talking and laughing; other kids laughing too, except that occasionally they look a little confused, as though they don’t quite understand the entire conversation. And then, a small girl and her even smaller brother, giving up their swings.

Oikawa beckons Iwaizumi over. Iwaizumi nearly doesn’t go.

“I hate it when you do that,” he says gruffly to Oikawa. (Because of course, he went to the swings. Of course he did.)

“Do what?” Oikawa looks genuinely confused.

Iwaizumi struggles to put it into words. “You - I don’t know, you make people do things.”

“Like how?”

“Like this! You made those kids give us their swings. Why’d they do that?”

Oikawa looks troubled. “Well - I was just talking to them, and then she said I could have her swing! I didn’t  _ make _ her.”

“You did though!” Ten-year-old Iwaizumi doesn’t know the words “manipulate” or “coercion,” but he sticks to his guns.

“I didn’t,” Oikawa says to the ground. For a second or two, he looks like he’s about to cry. But then he looks up stubbornly. “She just liked me. People like me. Is that bad?”

Iwaizumi shrugs, frustrated. “No. It just...gives me the creeps. Like, you know that dumb thing parents always say about your friends jumping off a bridge? It’s like...you could actually get everyone to do that.”

Oikawa laughs, pleased, as though Iwaizumi has given him a compliment. Iwaizumi just scowls. Oikawa stops laughing, and looks very seriously into Iwaizumi’s eyes. “Iwaizumi,” he says, “You don’t have to worry. I won’t make you jump off a bridge. I won’t ever make you do anything.” He pauses. “Well, nothing important.”

“Like I would,” says Iwaizumi. He feels a little uncomfortable, because he knows even then - if Oikawa was jumping off a bridge, Iwaizumi would definitely do it too. They would jump down together.

(To Iwaizumi’s intense surprise, Oikawa stops talking people into giving up their swings after that. Sure, he still manages to get extra turns on the slide and extra sprinkles on his ice cream and almost everything else he wants. But he leaves the swings alone. Iwaizumi knows enough to take it as a compliment.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When my partner read this story, they kept asking, "Is he a FAIRY?" Which is not what's going on here, but I think it's pretty telling for how I view charisma - apparently I think it's just some kind of magic? That people do with talking?? (Me and Kageyama would have that in common, I think.)


	3. like hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a mention of a pet death in this chapter. (It's very non-specific; the first three paragraphs are the most you'll see it discussed.)

In their second year of middle school, Iwaizumi’s dog dies.

Oikawa finds out as soon as he gets home from school. He listens with tears in his eyes. It’s not his first experience with the mortality of pets, but it hits home - he’s seen that dog nearly every day for five years. “What happened? She wasn’t that old.” he mumbles.

His mom’s voice is gentle. “She got hit by a car.” 

Oikawa nods. Then he picks up his backpack and heads for the door. 

A little more sharply, “Where are you going?”

Oikawa just gives her a look that says,  _ Where do you think? _

“Honey. This is a family issue. I think we should give them some space, don’t you?”

_ Confidence _ is already one of Oikawa’s tools. “Like hell,” he says. His mother doesn’t try to stop him again.

He knocks on Iwaizumi’s front door but enters without waiting for an answer. He catches a brief glimpse of Mrs. Iwaizumi, who calls his name in confusion, but he doesn’t stop - he’s straight up the stairs to Iwaizumi’s room. 

Iwaizumi is sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed, playing video games. He looks up at Oikawa, eyes red, face impassive. Then he slides over, making extra room for Oikawa to sit next to him. A moment later he reaches for the second controller, tosses it into Oikawa’s lap.

It’s a hard game and they play for hours. At one point Mrs. Iwaizumi comes upstairs. “Are you boys coming down for dinner?” Iwaizumi doesn’t even acknowledge her, but when Oikawa looks at his friend, Iwaizumi gives a tiny, barely-perceptible shake of his head.  _ No. _

Oikawa’s charm is at his disposal. He turns his most understanding smile on his friend’s mother. “Do you think we could have it up here, just this once?” She hesitates, and Oikawa tries to radiate reassurance and certainty. “I’ll make sure we get to our homework right after.” She nods, relieved - the homework has clearly been on her mind. She leaves and returns with two plates. Oikawa takes them both, and then gently pushes the door shut behind her with his foot.

He tries to hand one of the plates to Iwaizumi, who shakes his head. Oikawa says “I can’t eat without hands, just take it” and Iwaizumi takes it. A second later they are both gobbling down stir-fry. When they’re finished, Oikawa stacks up their plates and then pulls all the homework out of his backpack. He spreads it around and in front of them. Then he hands the controller back to Iwaizumi and re-starts the game.

Eventually, lord knows what time, there’s another knock on the door. “Toru, your mom texted me. She says you aren’t picking up your phone?” 

_ Charm. Reassurance. _ “Oops, sorry. I’ll call her right away.” He grabs their plates, carries them down to the kitchen with him, then pulls his phone from his pocket and calls.

“I know, mom. Sorry. Yeah, he’s really sad. I’m trying to help him get through his homework. Is it okay if I stay until he’s finished? It might be late. Of course I can get home, mom, it’s three houses. Thank you. Bye.” He looks up at Mrs. Iwaizumi. “Sorry to impose, but is it alright if I stay a bit longer?” 

Mrs. Iwaizumi looks relieved, even grateful. “Of course, dear. Thank you for your help. I know you’re like a brother to him.”

Something about this sits wrong in Oikawa’s stomach.  _ Not a brother _ , he thinks, but he doesn’t have time to worry about the distinction. He’s back up the stairs. Iwaizumi is slumped over, staring at his lap. When he looks up at Oikawa, his eyes are wet and slightly panicked. 

Oikawa sits back down, close enough that their shoulders are touching. Iwaizumi stares at his game controller. Oikawa bumps him with his elbow. “You wanna talk about it?”

Iwaizumi’s voice is rough - this is the first Oikawa has heard him speak. “Fuck no.”

“Then let’s play.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t move. Still stares at his controller. “Thought you were going.”

“Your mom said I could stay.”

Tension bleeds out of Iwaizumi’s shoulders, and he slumps slightly. Presses his shoulder into Oikawa’s. “Let’s play.” 

Eventually, Iwaizumi falls asleep. His game play trails off, and a second later the controller slips from his hand. His head falls back against the bed.

Oikawa shakes his friend’s shoulder. “Hey. Why don’t you lie down on the bed?” Iwaizumi shakes his head. Slightly more insistently, Oikawa says “Iwaizumi. Come on.” Iwaizumi glares. “Iwa-chan,” says Oikawa, pulling out their childhood nickname, now long-disused. The tiniest smile touches Iwaizumi’s lips. “We can keep playing,” says Oikawa. “Just get in bed.” 

This time Iwaizumi nods, and climbs up awkwardly, finally managing to land facedown, perpendicular to his pillow, with his feet hanging off the bed. 

“Come on, Iwa-chan. Almost there.” Oikawa takes Iwaizumi’s hand and rotates him, eventually managing to land his head at least in the vicinity of his pillow. 

Iwaizumi clings to his hand and doesn’t let go. Oikawa sits there until his friend’s fingers finally loosen in sleep. Then he finds Iwaizumi’s backpack and sits back down on the bed. They have a lot of the same teachers. He should be able to figure out most of Iwaizumi’s homework. 

After a few minutes, he reaches out his left hand (he needs his right for writing) and clasps Iwaizumi’s sleeping hand back in his own.


	4. that's not the point

In their last year of middle school, Oikawa practices himself into exhaustion. He sits down on the floor and realizes that he might not be able to get up.  _ But it’s okay, _ he thinks.  _ Iwa-chan will come. _

Everyone else has gone home, but Oikawa hasn’t heard Iwaizumi leave, and surely he would have at least said goodbye? Oikawa closes his eyes. A few seconds later - or a few minutes? How long has he been lying there? - he hears what he’s been waiting for. 

“What the fuck, man?” Oikawa doesn’t answer. “Oikawa?” Iwaizumi sounds scared. That won’t do.

“Hey,” Oikawa says lightly, and opens his eyes.

Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa’s water bottle and hands it to him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Practicing.” Oikawa takes a long drink. 

“Why?”

“Because he’s better than me.” Oikawa doesn’t have to say who he means: Kageyama Tobio, horrible fucking first-year genius prodigy asshole. Oikawa resents him beyond all reason.

“No he’s not,” says Iwaizumi, gruffly, while looking away. Then he looks back. “But he will be if you collapse or hurt yourself or something.”

“Yes he is.” Oikawa isn’t sure why he needs Iwaizumi to agree with him on this. 

Instead of answering, Iwaizumi takes the empty water bottle out of Oikawa’s hand and walks away. Oikawa can hear him fussing around by the sinks, and then walking back.

“Drink.” Oikawa obeys. Oh - Gatorade this time. 

“I’m not good enough.” Oikawa speaks the fear that’s been weighing on him. “I have to stay good enough. That’s how we get to keep playing. That’s how we beat Ushijima.” He eyes Iwaizumi, who he feels still isn’t taking this seriously enough. “That’s how we go to high school together.”

A shadow crosses Iwaizumi’s face, and Oikawa knows he’s struck home. Iwaizumi must, he  _ must _ , feel a little of what Oikawa feels when he thinks of being separated for high school. A squirmy, panicky, tantrum-y feeling - a shapeless wail of “no no no” that his mind turns away from in shock. No. They were going together.

“Don’t do that,” says Iwaizumi. “You know that’s not the point, don’t do that.”

Oikawa doesn’t say anything, which is capitulation enough. Iwaizumi picks him up off the floor, makes him eat an energy bar, and walks him home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter touches lightly on one of my favorite Haikyu headcanons, which is that Oikawa chose Aoba Johsai over Shiratorizawa because he didn't want to be separated from Iwaizumi.


	5. we still fit

In the winter of their last year of middle school, it snows. 

Iwaizumi gets a text from Oikawa.

Oikawa: Come play in the snow!  
Iwaizumi: What are you, five?  
Oikawa: What are you, eighty?   
Oikawa: Are you seriously too old to play in the snow?

Iwaizumi goes. Of course he goes. 

Oikawa hits Iwaizumi in the face with a snowball. 

“What are you, five?!” Iwaizumi shouts.

“Nope! When I was five you were better at this than me. Now I’m an award-winning setter! PINPOINT ACCURACY, Iwa-chan!” Another snowball, right to the face.

“That’s it. You’re dead.” Iwaizumi begins packing snow together in earnest. “RIP Oikawa, tragically killed in a ‘freak accident’ during a snowstorm.” He chucks his snowball and starts another, and another. Oikawa (damn his reflexes) manages to dodge them all.

There’s only one thing to be done. Iwaizumi picks up his next snowball, waits for Oikawa to turn his back, and then stuffs the snowball down the back of his friend’s shirt. 

Oikawa’s shriek is extremely satisfying.

A wrestling match inevitably follows. They are both too hampered by winter layers to be truly agile, so it’s clumsy and cold and wet and hilarious, until Iwaizumi gets Oikawa pinned beneath him. Oikawa has lost his hat and his ears and cheeks are bright pink; he’s shouting “I shall never be defeated!” Iwaizumu is holding a handful of snow that he’s preparing to shove down the front of his friend’s pants, when suddenly - he can’t do it. There’s something about diving for the front of Oikawa’s pants that’s just - he can’t do it. 

He just barely has time to worry that he’s paused for too long - that he’s staring - that he might be blushing - before Oikawa, apparently free from whatever compunction has seized Iwaizumi, shoves snow down the back of Iwaizumi’s pants, and  _ damn _ that’s cold. Iwaizumi changes his mind in a flash, and pulls Oikawa’s coat up to stuff snow into his waistband. And then turns away quickly, so as not to overanalyze whether Oikawa’s shocked gasp might have held...something else, as well.

*

They go sledding, later, on the biggest hill they can find, taking turns with the sled that’s now too small to hold both of them.

_ I feel like this used to be more fun _ , Iwaizumi thinks as he slides down and then trudges back up to hand the sled to Oikawa.

_ Although HE still seems to enjoy it _ . From his seat on the sled, Oikawa tilts his head all the way back to look at Iwaizumi upside-down. “Push me!” he commands, and Iwaizumi complies. Oikawa actually shouts “Wheeeeeee” as he slides down the hill. It reminds Iwaizumi of back when sledding was more fun. When the hills seemed larger and the snow seemed deeper, because Iwaizumi was smaller. When he and Oikawa would squish into the sled together, Oikawa leaning back against Iwaizumi’s folded legs, and Iwaizumi would feel the wind in his face and hear the squeal of Oikawa’s laughter. 

When Oikawa comes up the hill, Iwaizumi says “Let’s go together.”

Oikawa wrinkles his nose. “Will we fit?”

“Let’s find out.”

They fit, but just barely, with Iwaizumi’s legs stretched forward and Oikawa’s scrunched at the front of the sled. 

“Go!” Oikawa shouts. Iwaizumi tries to kick them off. The sled doesn’t move. 

Oikawa adds his feet to the mix. The sled slides forward six inches. Iwaizumi lets out a loud laugh.

“Push!” shouts Oikawa. They scoot the sled along with their feet, like some ridiculous four-legged insect, comprised of two laughing boys and one too-small sled. Eventually they gain enough momentum to slide for about ten feet, before the sled topples over to one side and they are lying in the snow, laughing hysterically. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa gasping for breath beside him.  _ Yes, _ he thinks.  _ This is what I remember. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..and then things were this sweet and wonderful forever and none of their issues ever came back to bite them. HA HA JUST KIDDING BRACE YOURSELVES.
> 
> (Also I'm kidding again, you really don't have to brace yourself that much. I don't think.)


	6. bullshit meter

In their first year of high school, they walk home from volleyball together.

They still do this, every day, with Oikawa filling most of the silences, or not, as he chooses. 

Today he’s talkative. He’s excited about volleyball, excited about their new team. He’s explaining how Hanamaki is a great jumper and how Matsukawa has a lot of power in his arms and oh, Iwa-chan, your spiking is improving a lot, you’re the best on the team really, and if you just worked on how you plant your feet -

“Stop it.” It’s very rare for Iwaizumi to interrupt, and Oikawa looks up in surprise.

“What?”

“Don’t - be flattering.”

Oikawa’s mouth hangs open. He had just been  _ talking _ , he was just talking about  _ their team _ . What was the problem? 

But at the same time, he can’t completely deny it. He’s been practicing the way a well-placed comment or compliment can change the way someone plays. He’s good at it.

“It was all true?” he offers meekly.

“It wasn’t. I’m not the best on the team and we both know it. Why’d you say that?”

“I was just -” Oikawa stops.  _ I was trying to make you do what I wanted _ , he thinks. 

Iwaizumi acts like he’s heard the whole sentence. “Don’t pull that shit with me.”

Oikawa feels shaken and guilty, and he’s not entirely sure why. “Sorry,” he says, and he means it. 

*

But it happens again, and again. Accidentally, Oikawa swears. He really doesn’t mean to mess with Iwaizumi’s head. But sometimes it’s like he just knows what needs to be said, he knows what will make Iwaizumi do what he wants, and he’s saying it before he can stop himself.

Iwaizumu can tell, every time. He has an impeccable bullshit meter. Sometimes he rolls his eyes. Sometimes he gives Oikawa a cold stare. Once, he looked at Oikawa and said, quietly and steadily, “Please don’t do that.” That one was by far the worst.

And apparently, some kind of damage has been done, because it seems as though Iwaizumi no longer trusts Oikawa’s words. He has begun to wince every time Oikawa praises him. If Oikawa says anything affectionate, Iwaizumi passes it off as a joke, or makes a half-laughing threat. And it all seems like humor, but...it’s different, and it stings.

In every other way, their closeness doesn’t change. Studying and video games and dinners at each other’s houses; inside jokes and unspoken communication; volleyball, volleyball, volleyball. Their bond is unbreakable. Except that now, for some reason, they aren’t allowed to talk about it?

Oikawa finds it more hurtful than he would have expected. He pushes against the borders of this new boundary, deliberately testing to see what Iwaizumi will and won’t let him say.


	7. you don't have to say it

In June of their second year, they lose in the inter-high qualifiers. Oikawa is so angry with himself he can barely speak. He runs through the game in his mind, over and over. What could he have done differently? What could he have said?

The club room empties until it’s just the two of them. Oikawa doesn’t even know why he’s still there, really - just staring into his locker. 

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi’s voice behind him is surprisingly gentle - Iwaizumi hardly ever talks to him like that anymore. It feels so good to hear his name in that voice that Oikawa closes his eyes, drops his head to his chest. He thinks he might cry, which he does not want to do. The thought makes him panicky; he clings to his anger as a lifeline. 

He turns around and crosses his arms. “ _ What?! _ ” he says, his voice sharp as a blade.

Anyone else would have fled before the steel in his voice, but not Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi ignores Oikawa’s tone and says, still gently, “Let’s go home.”

Oikawa is still too angry with himself to want anyone to be nice to him. “You go ahead.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Come on.”

“No, thank you.” Oikawa’s voice is firm and cold. “I have a few things to do, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns back to his locker. And anyone else would have given up after being so firmly dismissed, but not Iwaizumi.

“Oikawa. You’re exhausted. It’s not safe to stay here by yourself.” Iwaizumi matches Oikawa’s coldness, ice for ice.

Somehow, knowing that Iwaizumi is right just makes Oikawa madder. He doesn’t want to lose this argument. “Iwa-chan,” he says, as viciously as he can manage, “This isn’t necessary. I’m fine. You’re not my babysitter, and I don’t need you to walk me home all the time. I’d rather be alone. So just. Go. Away.” 

He regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth. Why was he talking to Iwaizumi like that? 

Iwaizumi’s face is completely unreadable. “Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna wait outside for you, okay? If you’re not out in a few minutes, I’ll go ahead and go.” He turns and walks quickly out of the club room.

Oikawa sits shakily down on the bench.  _ Why did I do that? _ , he asks himself.  _ I didn’t mean a word of it. _ And what if Iwaizumi takes it to heart? What if Iwaizumi stops walking home with him, not just tonight, but from now on? The bottom drops out of his stomach.

Anxiously, he collects his bag and walks outside. He’s certain that Iwaizumi will already be gone.

Iwaizumi isn’t gone - he looks up from leaning against the railing, and he doesn’t even look angry. Instead, he smiles slightly. “Are we going?” There’s only a hint of hesitation in his question.

“Yes, please.” Oikawa recovers a little confidence, and adds, “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of my company, would I? Not even for one night.” By which he means, I want to walk home with you every night.

Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes. “Trashykawa. I think what you mean is, “I’m sorry, Iwaizumi, thank you for waiting.’” 

“Well if you already know what I mean, why do I have to say it?” 

“You don’t.” Iwaizumi is wry yet completely, utterly sincere.


	8. i want everything

Two months later, in the heat of August, it’s too hot even for volleyball. They are bingewatching old anime. They’ve seen it before. It’s boring. 

“I’m bored, Iwa-chan.”

“That’s because this blows. You have a better idea?”

Silence.

Oikawa leans back against the arm of the couch and flops his feet across Iwaizumi’s lap. Waits for a reaction.

“Ugh, no way.” Iwaizumi gives Oikawa’s feet a solid shove, nearly dumping him onto the floor.

Oikawa smirks and sits up, laying his left arm across the back of the couch. A minute later, he yawns an exaggerated yawn and drapes his arm around Iwaizumi’s neck.

“Oikawa. It’s too hot for this to be funny.”

“No it’s not.” Oikawa rubs the back of Iwaizumi’s hair.

No reaction on Iwaizumi’s face - no disgust, no smile. But just barely, he leans his head back into Oikawa’s touch.

Suddenly, Oikawa can’t breathe. His hand stills, and Iwaizumi doesn’t move away. Oikawa draws a few short breaths, fighting to keep them silent. And then he traces a slow, soft circle in the short hair at the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck.

Iwaizumi doesn’t look up. But his breathing changes, and his lips part.

_ Yes. _ Oikawa doesn’t stop to think, doesn’t let himself think. The whole world right now is his fingers on Iwaizumi’s neck. He strokes a slow, exploratory motion to Iwaizume’s ear, and caresses the curve of it, rewarded by the quick rise and fall of Iwaizumi’s shoulders. The flutter of Iwaizumi’s eyelashes. An audible gasp when he tugs on Iwaizumi’s earlobe.

The sound sends a thrill through him.  _ Yes. _ He wants for Iwaizumi to feel this way. Wants to be the one to make him feel this way.

And still his friend has not looked at him.

Oikawa begins to stroke his thumb along Iwaizumi’s jawline, moving slowly from his ear to his mouth. At last, Iwaizumi turns his head - not towards Oikawa’s face, but tilting into the touch of his hand. Eyes closed, lips parted.

Oikawa draws his thumb across Iwaizumi’s lips.

The spell breaks. Iwaizumi opens his eyes, grabs Oikawa’s wrist. “Oikawa,” he says, an exasperated warning - and then he sees Oikawa’s face, and stops.

Oikawa doesn’t know what Iwaizumi sees, but he watches the brief flash of anger drain from Iwaizumi’s face as quickly as it had appeared. To be replaced with - what? Surprise. Assessment. Disbelief. Iwaizumi shifts, leans forward. Looks Oikawa full in the face, his eyes intent. 

“Oikawa?” This time it’s low, urgent, hungry. 

Oikawa leans forward and kisses him clumsily. His arm is still awkwardly pinned by Iwaizumi’s grip on his wrist. His body is perched on the couch at an awkward angle. Still he reaches out, his mouth hungry and desperate, and finds Iwaizumi’s lips with his own.

_ Yes _ . Iwaizumi drops Oikawa’s wrist, and brings both of his hands to Oikawa’s face, gently taking control and smoothing away all the initial awkwardness. Their kisses are soft, slow, exploratory. Oikawa’s fingers find (again) the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck, and the brush of his fingertips makes Iwaizumi shiver.  _ Oh, yes. _ He runs his hands through Iwaizumi’s hair, and Iwaizumi whimpers softly, and the sound sends a shock wave through him.

Iwaizumi drops his hands to Oikawa’s shoulders, and then further, to grip him by the arms. Oikawa leans into their kiss, hard, pushing Iwaizumi back against the couch. Iwaizumi goes without resistance, and Oikawa swings one knee over Iwaizumi’s legs and settles himself on Iwaizumi’s lap. He feels Iwaizumi let out a huff of breath against his mouth; he wants to grin in triumph. Instead he boldly licks his tongue against Iwaizumi’s lips, and then into his mouth. 

And  _ wow, oh wow, _ Iwaizumi lets out a sound between a growl and a whine, and his hands on Oikawa’s back clutch frantically. Iwaizumi, who never loses his cool; Iwaizumi, who never lets Oikawa get to him; Iwaizumi, who refuses to be convinced of anything. And now it’s Oikawa that’s doing this to him, Oikawa who is making him - 

_ Wait. _ Wait, wait, wait.  _ Making him? Is that …what I’m doing? _ Oikawa jerks back, and Iwaizumi’s eyes open. He looks at Oikawa, pleading and full of want, and Oikawa _ loves _ it, it sends a dirty thrill right up his spine. Followed, a second later, by a stab of guilt and fear. 

_ This isn’t right. _ He looks at Iwaizumi’s eyes, at his best friend helpless beneath him.  _ Can this be right? _ He’s almost starting to panic.  _ I can take whatever I want _ , he thinks, and  _ I want everything _ . The power is terrifying. It feels like a weapon, and he wants to use it  _ so bad _ . He kind of hates himself for that.

He watches Iwaizumi’s face change as he stares, desire fading into sadness, and it’s horrible, horrible, horrible, and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry,” he manages to say, but that only makes Iwaizumi close his eyes and bite his lip, his face pinched. “I can’t,” Oikawa says weakly. He doesn’t know how to explain what he can’t do. 

Iwaizumi nods, and Oikawa pulls himself awkwardly away. Looks at the ground, instead of at Iwaizumi, to say “I’m so sorry” before he leaves to walk home.

_ Why did I do that, why did I DO that? _ But the answer is painfully obvious now.  _ Because I want him, and I would do anything to get him. _ It’s easy to see, in retrospect, all the things he has done, all the things he does every day, to try to “get” Iwaizumi. The constant struggle for Iwaizumi’s attention. The “casual” touches that he pretends are accidents. Even the way he holds himself when Iwaizumi is around. And maybe those things are harmless, but this….

He pictures a ten-year-old Iwaizumi saying “You make people do things.” Iwaizumi last year, saying “Don’t pull that shit with me.” Himself, two months ago, saying things like “I’d rather be alone” and “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of my company,” instead of offering one ounce of sincerity to his best friend in the world.

_ I’ve never screwed up anything so badly in my life _ , Oikawa thinks. He locks himself in his bedroom and cries. Cries for the comfort of their friendship, which he has surely destroyed. Cries for the trust between them, which he has surely broken. Cries for breaking the promise he made, so many years ago, to never make Iwaizumi do anything, because - he has, he’s sure of it. He deployed desire like a weapon. One that destroyed their friendship, cleanly and completely, in a matter of minutes.

***

Oikawa tries to compose a text, the next morning. Something that will say, in a way that makes sense, “I’m sorry I make you do things, I didn’t mean to, or I didn’t realize I was doing it, I shouldn’t have done that, I know that now, I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me.”

After staring at his phone for an hour, he gives up.

***

A week later, when school starts up, Oikawa emerges from his house with his stomach churning, to find Iwaizumi waiting for him. He feels nauseated with relief. They walk to volleyball together, and by the time his breathing steadies, it almost feels like any other day. The awkwardness slowly fades, and things are almost back to normal.

Almost, because their physical ease with each other is gone. No more arms around the shoulders, no more feet on each other’s laps. Watching games, on the bus - they leave a seat (or a row) between them. No wrestling, no headlocks. They never touch, except on the court. 

On the court, they are what they have always been. Sometimes Oikawa is so grateful he could cry. On the court, they are Oikawa-and-Iwaizumi. Setter and spiker. Partners.

And if Oikawa is aware of something not-new, but newly-named, clenching his heart when he looks at his best friend; if he watches Iwaizumi on the court with his chest so full of pride and admiration and affection he feels he might burst sometimes; if he thinks to himself that there is no one he’d rather have as a partner, off the court or on it; if he whispers Iwaizumi’s name into the night, sometimes in lust and sometimes in tears - well. He’s not making anyone do anything. He’s hurting no one but himself.


	9. not long at all

When their third year of high school starts, Iwaizumi has pulled away as much as he can, which isn’t very much.

Iwaizumi would never admit it, but he admires Oikawa. Not the weird manipulation; he still hates that. But the passionate, whole-hearted way that Oikawa lives his life. When Oikawa is happy, he’s wildly happy, with that blinding smile and his breathtaking laugh. When he’s angry, he’s sharp and cutting and oh-so-dangerous. When he’s determined, his determination fills him up until there’s no room for anything else. And when he wants something...well. He goes for it. Right in that moment, and damn the consequences. 

So Iwaizumi wasn’t surprised, or upset, or anything, really, when Oikawa went for  _ him _ . Exactly once. Briefly. With maybe a couple of other...moments, where something could have happened but nothing did. He wouldn’t be surprised if it happened again. It was just how Oikawa was.

The thing is, that Oikawa isn’t dumb. He’s smart and observant and good with people, which is why he gets almost everything he wants, just for the asking. Which means that he knows, he  _ must _ know, that he can have Iwaizumi any time he wants. Just for the asking, and he hasn’t asked, so - there it is. All Iwaizumi can do is protect himself as best he can, which isn’t very well. 

Sometimes he thinks that dropping Oikawa completely would be the path of sanity. It’s his third year. If he dropped volleyball, if he claimed he wanted to focus on his studies, it might cause some surprise, but no unanswerable questions. Oikawa would hate it, but he would be too busy to change it. Iwaizumi would drift, slowly, out of Oikawa’s life, and in the end he might be happier.

He can’t. They have one year left together, and he can’t bear to give it up. The problem is, life with Oikawa in it is just...better. More fun, more dangerous, sillier and sadder and spicier and more complete. Best friends, a bond that’s truly unbreakable.

And then, of course, there’s volleyball. The constant of their lives for so many years, and the one area of their friendship that never seems to waver. No matter what has happened, on the court they are this: Oikawa-and-Iwaizumi, setter and spiker, easy and uncomplicated as breathing. Partners. 

Volleyball isn’t all that they are. Maybe isn’t even the best of what they are. But it’s a huge part of what they are. And Iwaizumi will cling to it for as long as he can.

Which isn’t very long at all, now.


	10. you can't get rid of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally caught up with events as we know them! These final three chapters assume that you've watched at least through the end of Season 2, and probably through the end of Season 3. I try not to write in a way that gives away the volleyball, but...there was no way to tell this story without some key details.

In October of their third year, they lose. High school volleyball is over, and they will never go to nationals. Oikawa is white-hot with rage as they leave the court; as they make their way to get their bags. But then he looks across the locker room at Iwaizumi, and his friend looks back at him.

Iwaizumi, always stoic, looks pale and panicky. Is he shaking? Oikawa knows to be on the lookout for dehydration and exhaustion. He’s across the room in an instant, eyes assessing. “You gonna make it?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer, just stares at Oikawa. Eventually, he says “It’s over.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t mean the game, doesn’t mean the nationals, doesn’t mean their high school volleyball club. Oikawa feels the phrase echoing in his own head. ‘It’s over’ means the time they have spent together, on the court, the two of them, for what feels like their whole lives. The bleakness in Iwaizumi’s voice is the bleakness inside Oikawa’s heart.

It’s terrifying. Oikawa is much more prepared to face his own grief than Iwaizumi’s. Oikawa lets his feelings come and go, like weather. Iwaizumi, though - Iwaizumi is steady. Still water; a tree; a stone. If Iwaizumi is unstable, it's because the whole world has been shaken.

He wants to wrap Iwaizumi in his arms, but he knows Iwaizumi won’t allow it. He wants to say that they will always be friends, but he knows Iwaizumi won’t allow it.

He makes Iwaizumi sit down; presses water into Iwaizumi’s hand. Sits next to him and watches him drink it. Looks for a way to express affection that doesn’t involve talking or touching.

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” he finally says. “Do you remember when Mrs. ----- had that chain-link fence and we tried to use it as a volleyball net?” 

Iwaizumi turns towards him and smiles, just a little. “Remember that time we practiced setting over the swing set and we hit that girl on the head?” 

“Remember that time in elementary school volleyball when you shouted ‘Oikawa move your damn feet’ and we got in trouble?”

Iwaizumi chuckles. “You really needed to move your feet!”

“You made your point. I figured if you were willing to say ‘damn’ in front of a teacher, it must be pretty important.”

“Remember that time we lost my volleyball in the lake? And you tried to fish it out with that girl’s jump rope?”

“Hey, it almost worked.” Oikawa smirks. “There was an unexpected current.”

“And then” - Iwaizumi is laughing now - “you told my mom that a bird stole it!”

“I what?” Oikawa does not remember this.

“You said, ‘Iwa-chan, let me handle this’ and then you told her that a bird took it.” Iwaizumi can barely speak this part, he’s laughing so hard.

“I remember the lost volleyball, but I don’t remember this.”

“S’okay.” Iwaizumi’s laughter dies away, and after a minute his mouth pinches. He looks back at Oikawa. “Remember when we got to middle school and you found out we weren’t in the same class, and you cried?”

Oikawa does remember. “We’d always been in the same class.”

“Well,” says Iwaizumi, “I cried too.”

“You did?!” Oikawa’s stare is outraged. “Seriously?! You gave me so much crap for that.”

“I know. Sorry. I was just so afraid that we wouldn’t be friends anymore.”

Neither of them needs to say how badly they’re feeling that same fear, now. 

Oikawa says “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” and hopes it’s true. 

Iwaizumi just looks at him. A long time. Too long. Opens his mouth as if to say something, lets his breath out without speaking, and eventually shakes his head and says “Idiot.”

***

That evening, they bump fists when they say goodbye. Nothing earth-shaking.

But it’s the first time they’ve touched each other off the court in over a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen the recap movies and haven't read the manga, then google "seijoh bonus scenes" and watch the 7-ish minutes of extra content for them. I promise it's worth it. <3


	11. i'm here

Oikawa watches the final, the next day. Takes a bus across town and sits crouched, curled in on himself, angry and hurting.    
  
Iwaizumi finds him. How, Oikawa cannot imagine, but Iwaizumi finds him. Across town, in a crowded gym, his best friend finds him, and Iwaizumi is acting like it’s just a coincidence, but Oikawa thinks to himself,  _ that’s love _ . Maybe not in the way that he wants, but it is. They sit one careful seat apart and analyze the action of the game. Intellect as a weapon against grief. It works, for the duration of the game. For the bus ride back to their neighborhood. Until halfway through their walk home, when Oikawa breaks down crying in the middle of the sidewalk.

Warm arms wrap around him, pull him close. Oikawa hesitates, stands stiff, because they haven’t touched in so long, and it feels so dangerous now, but - everything is Iwaizumi. Oikawa leans into the touch, presses his face into Iwaizumi’s neck. He feels a hand rubbing circles on his back; another hand pressed to the back of his head.

It feels so, so good. Oikawa tries to take in all the sensations: Iwaizumi’s scent; the feel of his shoulder; the motion of the hand on his back; the softness of Iwaizumi’s neck against Oikawa’s face and mouth - 

He manages to stop himself a half-second before he almost presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s neck.

The spike of fear is so sharp that it cuts through his tears of rage and loss. He cannot kiss Iwaizumi, no matter how much he wants to. It would be disastrous. Friendship-ending. It feels like one more loss, one more thing ripped from him. He’ll never go to nationals. He’ll never beat Ushijima. And he can never, never, never kiss Iwaizumi. 

A new wave of sadness lurches through him. He turns his head to rest his forehead on Iwaizumi’s shoulder - against his jacket, away from the softness of his skin - and lets himself cry.

It’s only when his own tears start to subside that he notices the wetness against his neck, and the irregular shaking of Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

_ Oh god. _

Oikawa reigns in a wild, self-destructive impulse to cover Iwaizumi with kisses; to suck the tears from his face; to swallow his sobs with his mouth.

_ Be a fucking person, _ he tells himself.  _ Be his fucking FRIEND right now. _ He lays his hands on Iwaizumi’s back and tries not to relish the touch. He imitates Iwaizumi’s motions, rubbing his friend’s back; he doesn’t dare stroke Iwaizumi’s hair, although he longs to. 

Iwaizumi cries as though he’s still trying not to; each sob choking out after a long interval. Oikawa listens, feeling the urgency of his own helplessness rising and rising, until the need to do something overcomes all other concerns.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, meaninglessly. “It’s okay.” He feels the shake of Iwaizumi’s head,  _ no _ , against his neck. And what can he say to that, when volleyball is over and their last year is slipping like sand through their fingers and so, so much has gone unsaid between them? He searches his mind for meaningful reassurance, and finds none, but - “Iwa-chan,” he whispers, “I’m here. I’m here.”

Iwaizumi nods and tightens his grip. Oikawa hugs him back, frozen and careful, until both their breathing steadies. 

Oikawa pulls away, a bit awkwardly, suddenly unsure of where to stand. “Hey,” he says. “Do you feel like going home?”

“No.”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Iwaizumi gives him an ‘are-you-crazy’ look. “Where?”

“I dunno.” He remembers something. “The park? There’s supposed to be meteors!”

Iwaizumi is still giving him the look. “How do you just happen to know that?”

“I thought we were going to miss it! Come on.”

And Iwaizumi goes. Of course he goes.


	12. swing sets

In the fall of their last year of high school; eighteen years after they met; fourteen months after their first kiss; one day after they lost their last high school volleyball game; and twenty-seven minutes after they sobbed the grief of that loss onto each other’s shoulders, two boys sit on a swing set, looking up. They are best friends, although that isn’t everything they are to each other.

It’s clear and cold. The stars are incredibly bright. Oikawa breathes deeply; the night feels cleansing, somehow, or perhaps it was their tears that were cleansing. Purifying. Oikawa’s heart feels surprisingly light. He feels...real, he feels like his real self.

The first shooting star is just a sparkle in Oikawa’s peripheral vision. “Hey! Did you see that?” 

“No.”

Oikawa leans back in the swing, arms extended straight out from the chains. He can see Iwaizumi’s silhouette next to him, head tilted back. 

“Oh!” says Iwaizumi, and points. 

The next one, they both see - Oikawa’s delighted laugh coincides with Iwaizumi’s pleased “Hah!” of breath.

Stars, and silence.

Oikawa turns in a circle, twisting the chains together, and then lets them spin him as they unwind. “Hey,” he says. “Do you remember telling me off for making a little girl give me her swing?”

“Yeah.”

“I remember thinking, wow, Iwa-chan really cares about the swings.”

“It wasn’t about the  _ swings _ .” Iwaizumi sounds amused.

“I know that  _ now _ .”

Stars.

“My neck hurts,” says Iwaizumi, and Oikawa is afraid he will leave, but then he says “I’m gonna lie down.” He pulls up the hood of his sweatshirt and lies down on the grass. Oikawa joins him, making a pillow out of his scarf.

The swings are still weighing on Oikawa’s mind. “What a little shit I was.”

Iwaizumi laughs. “Yeah,” he says, but his voice is fond.

“I’m sorry.” It’s easier, somehow, to say this in the dark.

“Hmm?” Iwaizumi sounds confused. “What for? You weren’t a shit to  _ me _ .”

“What about last summer?” Oikawa realizes after he says it that this isn’t right, it was the summer before. 

There’s a tension in Iwaizumi’s voice when he answers, and Oikawa thinks that Iwaizumi probably knows what he means, even though what he says is, “What about it?”

The air is so clear. The stars are so clear. Oikawa’s mind feels so clear. 

“I mean, when I kissed you. You didn’t really want that. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“I did want it.” Iwaizumi sounds steady and calm. “You know I did.”

“I made you want it,” says Oikawa. It feels like a confession; a huge weight of shame lifts from his heart.

To his surprise, Iwaizumi laughs. “Ugh, your ego, I swear to god.” Iwaizumi turns on his side, facing Oikawa. “Is that what you think happened?”

“Uh, yeah.” Oikawa says this as though it’s obvious. “You said it yourself. I make people do things.”

“Not  _ that _ .” Iwaizumi’s amusement is jarring against Oikawa’s self-recrimination. 

“Are you sure?” Oikawa’s voice drops to a whisper. “I’m very, very good at it.”

Iwaizumi still sounds amused. “Of course I’m sure. You think I can’t tell the difference between the shit you pull, and how I actually feel?” A pause. “Oh my god. You really do, you think I can’t tell. Well, guess what:  _ I’m _ not that dumb, and  _ you’re _ not that good.”

Oikawa is feeling rather bruised. It’s very strange to apologize for something that’s been weighing on your mind for years, and then to discover that you’ve actually done something totally  _ different _ wrong, instead. He feels bad for making assumptions. But - if it wasn’t because Oikawa had manipulated him into it, then -

Oikawa turns on his side, so that they’re facing each other. “Iwa-chan. Why did you kiss me?”

He sees the silhouette beside him take a deep breath. There’s something different in Iwaizumi’s voice when he answers. Gentle, sympathetic. “Because I like you, asshole. Not because you made me like you, I just - think you’re great. You don’t have to convince me that you’re worth liking. I already like you. I always have.”

Oikawa wants to say, _ that’s not what I was asking _ , but there’s a lump in his throat and tears pricking at his eyes, so - maybe it was. Or maybe he just needed to hear it. Had needed that for years.

“Iwa-chan,” he says without really thinking. “What about now? Do you want to kiss me now?”

There’s a pause, and Oikawa wishes he could see Iwaizumi’s face. “Yeah,” says Iwaizumi eventually. “I do.”

Iwaizumi scoots closer, and Oikawa scoots closer, until he can feel Iwaizumi’s breath on his face. Up close, he can make out a little of Iwaizumi’s features; he thinks his friend might be smiling. He feels the lightest brush of fingers on his face, and then soft lips on his.

So gentle. Oikawa remembers this from their previous kiss. He kisses back, soft and unhurried. Iwaizumi’s fingers bury themselves in his hair; Oikawa tentatively lays one hand on the front of Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt. 

Somehow their kiss breaks naturally; Oikawa leans his forehead against Iwaizumi’s. “Iwa-chan,” he says, not really to get Iwaizumi’s attention but just to say his name. “I really like you, you know.”

Iwaizumi strokes Oikawa’s hair. “I know,” he says, but he sounds a little sad.

“I think I might be in love with you.” Oikawa is realizing it and saying it at the same time, but he feels the truth of it, clear as a bell. Clear as the sky. Clear as his memories of Iwaizumi - Iwa-chan - stretching back through his whole life.

Iwaizumi’s hand stills in Oikawa’s hair, then resumes stroking. Oikawa thinks he might hear Iwaizumi sigh, very lightly. There’s no other response.

“I mean it,” Oikawa whispers. 

A pause, and then Iwaizumi whispers back, “You won’t mean it tomorrow.”

“I will!” Oikawa pulls back in indignation. “You don’t believe me?”

No response. 

Oikawa sits up, more determined than actually angry. “Look, Mister I-can-always-tell-when-Oikawa-is-bullshitting-me. I’ve been in love with you since, I don’t know, probably since I was  _ born _ ! I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment it occurred to me that I  _ could _ want that. I have spent the last fucking  _ year, _ freaking  _ the fuck _ out, because I thought I ruined everything by screwing with your head.” He’s starting to get genuinely upset now - his throat tightening, his words coming faster. “And now you’re saying I didn’t fuck with your head at all, and you’re saying these - things, that are just - and you’re kissing me, and I - I fucking l _ ove _ you. Now. Have I said a  _ damn thing _ that’s not true?!”

Iwaizumi is breathing fast and hard. “No,” he says, sitting up. He sounds almost confused. “No, that was...” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he grabs the front of Oikawa’s shirt and pulls him close, kissing him hard. 

Oikawa can hardly react at first, because  _ wow _ , that’s  _ different _ , and Iwaizumi’s gentle kisses are lovely, but this is also quite - 

Things are rather hot and hazy for a few minutes, until Iwaizumi breaks away, gasping. “Oikawa. Oikawa. I - you know I love you too, right?” 

Oikawa laughs through his breathlessness, a surprised laugh. “Huh. I guess...I did know? Or part of me knew.”

Iwaizumi chuckles in exasperation, and Oikawa can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “For god’s sake. Why didn’t you say anything, dumbass?”

“Well, I thought -” Oikawa realizes halfway through that this cannot be dealt with as light-hearted banter. He continues anyway. “I thought I had conned you into liking me. And you had asked me not to do that. So it didn’t seem right to...act on it.” What a short summary, for a year’s worth of agony.

“Ah,” says Iwaizumi in a strange tone. Then he lies back down. “C’mere.” He pulls Oikawa down, so they are once again face-to-face. “Oikawa,” he says earnestly, “that is the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard.” He kisses Oikawa’s nose.

Oikawa digs his fingers viciously into Iwaizumi’s side, tickling without mercy. Iwaizumi jerks helplessly with laughter, and Oikawa takes pity on him. Mostly because Iwaizumi nearly managed to smack his head into Oikawa’s nose.

“Okay, okay, okay! I’m sorry. But for real.” Iwaizumi cups Oikawa’s face with his hand. “Are you worried about this? Conning me into stuff?”

Oikawa nods, and then remembers that Iwaizumi might not be able to see. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Well...look. I’m not, okay? You’re not going to be able to bullshit me into anything I don’t want to do. It’s not going to work, so I don’t care if you try. So, con me into whatever you want. If I don’t like it, I’ll let you know. Does that help?”

“Yes.” It does, just a little. 

“C’mon,” says Iwaizumi. “Let’s test it. Try to talk me into something.”

“Kiss me again.”

“Well, I want to do that.” Iwaizumi does it. “Try something else.”

“Let’s tie up a goat outside the Karasuno gym. A bunch of goats. The kind that poops everywhere.”

Iwaizumi snickers. “Where would you even get a bunch of goats?”

“I could get a goat.”

“Could not.” But Iwaizumi’s tone of voice sounds like he thinks maybe Oikawa could. “Anyway, no thanks. See, it worked. Try another one.” He kisses Oikawa again. 

“Let’s go skinny-dipping, right now.”

“Mmm. Tempting, but no.” Another kiss.

“Let’s fool around in the equipment room on Monday. The gym’ll be empty. I’ve got keys.”

Iwaizumi pauses for longer this time. “We can’t do that.” He doesn’t quite sound certain. Oikawa smirks, because it’s starting to feel like he’s  _ winning. _ When Iwaizumi kisses him this time, Oikawa kisses back in earnest, until they are both breathless.

“Sneak into my room tonight,” Oikawa says, still breathing fast. He’s only half-joking.

Iwaizumi lets out his breath in a low whistle. “Okay. You’re the  _ devil _ . I’m dating the  _ devil _ .”

_ Dating. _ Oikawa grins, a mile wide. “You’re going to  _ love _ it,” he whispers confidently. 

A wondering laugh, and Oikawa can hear the smile in Iwaizumi’s voice. “I know. I know I am.” He feels Iwaizumi’s thumb brush across his lips. “I already - I’ve always - we’ve always -”

“I know, I know, ” Oikawa says. He grabs Iwaizumi’s hand and kisses it. “I’m amazing, I bring light to your life, and you adore me.”

“Well…...yeah,” says Iwaizumi, without a hint of irony. Oikawa, for once, is utterly speechless.

*

On their first night of being together, Oikawa and Iwaizumu stay out until dawn. Neither of them suggests or considers going home. They hold hands and watch the stars. They laugh at themselves, and each other, and at the world in general. They kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss, each kiss different from the last. Making up for a lifetime of missed kisses. They fall asleep in the jungle gym, side by side. 

Iwaizumi wakes first, cold and stiff and happy. He looks at Oikawa, sleeping beside him. It must be close to sunrise, because he can make out Oikawa’s features now. “I should let him sleep,” he thinks. He watches the stars fade above him. He feels restless - too restless, considering how little sleep he’s had. He wants Oikawa to wake up. 

The sky grows lighter, and Iwaizumi can’t wait anymore. He gently shakes Oikawa. “Hey,” he whispers. “The sun’s rising.” 

“Let’s watch,” says Oikawa, his eyes lighting up.  _ Yes, _ thinks Iwaizumi,  _ that’s exactly what I meant. _

They scramble to the top of the monkey bars and watch as the sky grows paler, then brighter, and then the red disk of the sun peeks over the horizon. 

It feels surprisingly normal. One more Oikawa-and-Iwaizumi escapade: staying out all night and watching the sun rise. 

Iwaizumi sneaks a glance at Oikawa. He wonders if the moment would feel different, if they were holding hands or if their arms were around each other or something. He wonders if that’s what he wants - would he rather it felt different, or would he rather it felt the same?

He’s not so much “sneaking glances” now, as “staring,” and Oikawa looks back at him. Iwaizumi smiles, small and tentative. Oikawa smiles back. His smile is - again, so  _ normal _ . The same smile he’s been smiling at Iwaizumi for years. But it’s also wide and bright and - Iwaizumi feels a clench in his chest - loving.  _ His smiles have always been loving _ , Iwaizumi thinks.  _ Because he loves me _ .

In that moment, Oikawa seems to read his mind, and says “I haven’t kissed you in the daylight yet.” Which sounds smooth as hell, until they have to manage the logistics of shimmying closer together while maintaining their perch on the monkey bars. Iwaizumi snickers, and Oikawa snorts, and for a brief moment Iwaizumi is concerned they might actually fall.

So their first kiss in daylight is a kiss through laughter. Which Iwaizumi thinks is perfect, because their love isn’t just kisses - it’s monkey bars and swingsets and snowball fights; it’s laughter and snark and tears; it’s just them, it’s the whole of them, it’s the best of what they are.

*

The sun rises on their first day together. And yes, volleyball is behind them, but the whole world is before them. They are Oikawa-and-Iwaizumi, partners. They walk home holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may be able to tell that I really wanted a new ending for Oikawa. I feel like most of the defeated teams get their own little transformative story, where they learn or change or grow, and while I feel sad for them, I don’t feel like their story is incomplete. 
> 
> Now, I’m not finished reading the manga yet, so I don’t know what happens there (don’t tell me!!) But in the anime, I’m very uneasy with Oikawa’s ending. I feel like he’s just left standing there, holding all his emotional baggage, and I’m looking at him thinking “Wait, that’s where it ends?” So I wanted to write him something more hopeful. Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
